


My Dear Bluestocking

by WonderStarLord



Category: Gilmore Girls, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Mentioned Stubby Boardman, Sirius Black is not Stubby Boardman
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29734938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WonderStarLord/pseuds/WonderStarLord
Summary: “Oh – geez!”“Padfoot …”The door yanked wide open, Sirius Black had been caught in another broom cupboard with a new girl yet again.“Wow. Now I can truly say it feels like I never left.”A l’il Rory/Sirius one-shot from yet another unfinished fic.(Try not to think too hard about my previous dips in the MWPP pool.)
Relationships: Rory Gilmore/Sirius Black





	My Dear Bluestocking

**Author's Note:**

> Condensed time, a faster pace, younger ages compared to _Gilmore Girls_.  
>   
> Also, Rory’s squeamish scale has been (reasonably) re-calibrated for the wizarding world.

“Oh – _geez_!”

“Padfoot …”

The door yanked wide open, Sirius Black had been caught in _another_ broom cupboard with a _new_ girl yet _again_.

“Wow. _Now_ I can truly say it feels like I never left.”

Caprice Hornby may have squealed upon the sudden intrusion; she may have flamed a deep red; and she may have hastily scrambled to cover her half-dressed self, but she was smirking. The students at Hogwarts tended to be incapable of hiding their brimming self-satisfaction at bagging a Black – this Black, especially, was in the highest of vogue now that his famously beautiful cousins were all gone – even if it was only for an hour or two.

“Oh, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, how I’ve missed you,” sang Rory Gilmore (rather poorly – unlike her mum and very much like her dad, she didn’t have the best voice).

Remus Lupin looked mildly abashed. “I’m sorry about this.”

“You don’t need to apologise for him,” she said evenly, averting her bugged eyes from that evening’s indecent display. “It’s your nymphomaniac friend who should be doing that.”

“Nymphos refer to females, my dear Bluestocking,” grinned Sirius, slowly taking the time to adjust his robes.

“Sorry, satyriasis,” Rory apologised sardonically. “My mistake. It’s just – your hair – you’ve grown it out since I last saw you – hard to tell these days.” She had spent the first half of sixth year on exchange at Castelobruxo.

He tossed his dark hair, shiny as ever, in a carelessly elegant fashion. “You like it?”

“I don’t know.” She squinted, pretending to seriously contemplate the matter, then wrinkled her nose. “You look a fair bit like Stubby Boardman.”

“WHAT!”

Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say.

“Oh dear,” sighed Remus.

Sirius was madly shaking his head. “Sod that flaming ponce!”

“Not this again.”

“HE looks like ME –”

“Padfoot –”

“NOT the other way around!”

Remus had given up on his friend and turned to Rory. “Sorry about him – again.”

“You should really find a way to fix that reflex, Remus,” she smiled kindly. “I promise, it’s completely unnecessary.”

“Still, I should’ve warned you. He’s been like this since August. People keep commenting on the likeness, and you know Sirius. He has to be an original. He hates the comparison.”

“Clearly,” said Rory, amused, watching Black’s ceaseless rant about the lead singer of the Hobgoblins.

“– _Witch Weekly_! I mean, why the bloody hell do _they_ care?” continued Sirius, ignoring the all but forgotten Ravenclaw girl whining for attention at his side.

“Maybe because of your family and you running away from them and them publically disowning you,” Remus calmly said to him. “It was probably just included as funny afterthought to add colour to the article.”

“ _Witch Weekly_? Article?” stated Rory, inquisitive. “Hmph, I must’ve missed that one.”

“Your mum read it aloud at the start of every lesson last term,” he answered her briskly.

“Sad I missed that,” she sounded put out.

* * *

James Potter was inclined to act foolishly whenever Lily Evans was around. He became an absolute idiot when a third party – to be precise, a _male_ third party – was added to the Evans equation. So, naturally, his best friend found himself lost for an explanation when the Head Boy approached their house table. The seventh-year Hufflepuff had the audacity to sit down beside Evans, and James failed to react. Most unexpected.

“Um, mate, you feeling all right there?” Sirius smirked and pressed a hand to James’s forehead.

James stared at him like he was the one who was off colour. “Eh?”

“Evans.” He jerked his head to where the fifth-year Gryffindor girls were all seated. “This year’s Head Berk has invaded your territory, yet you seem completely unaffected by it. Forgive me for questioning your good health.”

“What?” James followed Sirius’s gaze and caught on. “Oh.” He shrugged. He had known about that inconsequential titbit since its conception in August. “That’s nothing to worry about. Bloke’s not interested in Evans. He’s going out with Rory.”

Something in Sirius Black’s customary countenance of affected boredom wavered for the thinnest split second, before incredulity and an _almost_ forced amusement took over. “Huh.”

Peter Pettigrew was gaping. “Really?”

Gilmore had never given any indication that she cared about boys. Or dating. Or boys _and_ dating.

Remus Lupin had closed the book he was reading and set it aside but didn’t have a word to add.

“Nothing to say, Moony?” asked Sirius.

“It’s not news to me,” he said, mildly entertained that Sirius was showing interest in the matter. “They were holding hands on the train.”

“And when exactly did you happen to chance upon witnessing this?”

“Prefect carriage.”

“Right.” Sirius nodded succinctly. “Right.”

Remus and Rory Gilmore had been the two Gryffindors to receive badges with their school equipment lists that summer. Oh, the shame. One of his best mates: a _prefect_. An embarrassment, that was.

Amos Diggory had been a prefect as well. Many house points had been docked and detentions doled out to Sirius and James because of him. Sodding git.

As a single entity, the four boys’ heads had swivelled to observe the girls again. They were avidly talking about whatever it was girls talked about like normal, only with the new addition of a brainless pretty-boy chatting away with them; and tossing a shiny red apple between his hands without looking, like that was supposed to be impressive.

Diggory. Conventionally handsome, obnoxiously wholesome Diggory was dating the Ingénue of Gryffindor Tower. How so very fitting, Sirius scoffed at the thought.

“Anything else to add, Padfoot?” grinned James. He, too, appeared to be interested in Sirius’s unusual interest.

“Nope. Not at all,” he said easily. “Pass the pumpkin juice, will you?”

Sirius wasn’t James. He didn’t flip out over birds.

His nonchalance deceived nobody.


End file.
